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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535187">so stay with me (hold my hand)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickoflosiingsoulmates/pseuds/sickoflosiingsoulmates'>sickoflosiingsoulmates</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dimension 20 (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, making tea as a love language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:08:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,709</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickoflosiingsoulmates/pseuds/sickoflosiingsoulmates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The days after everything with Times Square and the American Dream are quiet. Esther spends most of it in her apartment or at Clinton Hill, trying not to think too hard about anything that happened. Turns out, years of repressing every emotion that could relate back to sorrow isn’t something that can be stamped out overnight.</p>
<p>This facade lasts for about a week before things come crashing down around her.</p>
<p>[or, esther grieves. ricky helps]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ricky Matsui/Esther Sinclair</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>so stay with me (hold my hand)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was gonna be part of a larger fic that i ended up scrapping, but i loved this part so! here we are</p>
<p>title from i will by mitski</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days after everything with Times Square and the American Dream are quiet. Esther spends most of it in her apartment or at Clinton Hill, trying not to think too hard about anything that happened. Turns out, years of repressing every emotion that could relate back to sorrow isn’t something that can be stamped out overnight.</p>
<p>She also spends some of it with Ricky, which serves as a great distraction from everything she’s avoiding. It feels impossible to even be sad around him, and Esther is so thankful that she doesn’t have to run from this, from <i>him,</i> anymore.</p>
<p>This facade lasts for about a week before things come crashing down around her.</p>
<p>She’s at the Clinton Hill chantry, trying to get the place back into shape after the chaos of the past few months, when she finds a slip of paper tucked away safely in Alejandro’s desk, bearing her name at the top. Cautiously, she begins to read.</p>
<p>
  <i>Esther -</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>If you’re reading this, I’ve likely passed. Or, Ana and Amelia are going through my desk again, in which case - girls, I love you, but quit snooping.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Esther, first, I want to say that I love you, and I know you have what it takes to run the chantry. It may feel overwhelming, even unfair, but you can do it. I know you can. You’ve always been an extraordinary wizard, and you’ll be an even greater chairwoman.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Second, I have a book for you on running the chantry should you wish to read it (and, knowing you, you will). I will say that, while it is incredibly rewarding, running the chantry is difficult work, and it can be a lot to handle. My predecessor wrote something for me that laid out how he led, and I have now added on to it for you. I hope you will find it helpful.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Lastly, I am sorry to be leaving you. I have lived a long, fulfilling life, but I am incredibly regretful that I do not get to be with you to watch you lead as amazingly as I know you will. I will miss you dearly, and I look forward to seeing you again - not too soon, mind you.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>You’re going to be incredible. I know it.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Alejandro.</i>
</p>
<p>Esther is crying before she reaches the end, tears splashing onto the note, blurring her vision to the words in front of her. Her hand shakes where it holds the paper. Without deciding to or realizing she is doing it, she sinks to the floor.</p>
<p>She’s feeling - so much, it’s hard to really keep any of it straight. Grief, but also guilt for not letting herself grieve Alejandro sooner, for being too <i>scared</i> to grieve. She feels like she’s let him down, somehow, by not acknowledging his death just because it was too <i>hard</i> for her.</p>
<p>It’s funny - she cried a lot on New Year’s Eve, when the curse had broken, but there had been so much else happening, that it was easy to compartmentalize, to cry without really feeling it. Now, though, the sorrow grips her tight, filling her lungs, escaping in tiny gasps between sobs.</p>
<p>She doesn’t know what to do. She can’t think clearly, can’t get out of her head enough to logic her way through this. She feels hopeless.</p>
<p>Before she lets herself overthink it, she reaches for her phone, opening up her texts with Ricky. <i>Could you come by Clinton Hill?</i> she sends through tears.</p>
<p><i>Yeah, be there soon,</i> Ricky texts back almost immediately, and the instant relief she feels is palpable. She’s still crying, but it’s not as intense, as all-consuming as before.</p>
<p>True to his word, Ricky arrives about fifteen minutes later. Esther’s not crying anymore (<i>Thank God,</i> she thinks), but she’s still sat on the floor, and she knows her face looks like a mess. When Ricky spots her, his brows furrow, and he moves towards her, immediately sitting on the floor beside her.</p>
<p>Her heart clenches, and she’s not sure why the image of Ricky - perfect, selfless Ricky - coming to Clinton Hill without question, and now sitting on the floor beside her, makes her begin crying again, but it does. She feels embarrassed, but Ricky doesn’t seem phased by it. “Esther, hey, what’s up?” he asks, voice soft.</p>
<p>She doesn’t want to explain, not in words, so she shows him the note that Alejandro had left her. He reads it, and when he’s finished, he folds the note and gently sets it aside. “Do you - can I hug you?” Esther feels her face crumple as she nods, and before she can blink, Ricky has his arms wrapped around her.</p>
<p>It should suck - they’re both sitting on the floor, and the position is awkward - but it’s exactly the opposite. It’s the best hug she’s ever had - Ricky’s so warm and inviting, and she feels better just by being wrapped in his arms. She suspects there’s some magical component to it, but she honestly doesn’t care to think too much about it.</p>
<p>They stay embraced until Esther’s breathing evens out, and she reluctantly pulls away. She doesn’t look at Ricky, but she still murmurs out, “Thank you. For coming, and for staying.”</p>
<p>“Of course, Esther. I’d do anything for you.” From anyone else, after just a week of officially being together, it would read as ingenuine, but on Ricky she believes it wholeheartedly. She chances a glance at Ricky and shoots him a small smile, which he mirrors.</p>
<p>She swallows thickly, hesitating before saying, “Um, I don’t really want to be alone right now. Do you think…” she trails off, and Ricky stares at her expectantly. </p>
<p>When it becomes clear that she doesn’t have an end to her sentence, Ricky lets out a quiet, “Oh. Oh, yeah, we could chill at my place if you wanted.” Esther smiles again, relieved, and Ricky stands, holding out a hand for her to take. Without hesitation, she takes it.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Ricky makes her tea when they get back to his apartment.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know you drink tea,” she comments when he brings her a mug, fingertips brushing as he does so. The touch, more so than the tea, is what warms her.</p>
<p>“Oh, I don’t, really. My mom used to make tea for Emiko and I when we’d have bad days, and I thought you might appreciate it,” he says casually, gentle kindness glimmering in his eyes. Something clenches around Esther’s heart, something strange but not all unpleasant. She thinks that she could get used to it.</p>
<p>“Well, thank you,” she says, taking a sip of her tea. It’s not great - it’s oversteeped, and it’s clear that Ricky doesn’t make tea often - but she doesn’t even care. She smiles softly at him, and he smiles back.</p>
<p>“Do you wanna talk?” he asks, and anxiety pulses in Esther’s chest, the smile fading from her face.</p>
<p>The thing is - she does want to talk, can still feel the grief pooling in the pit of her stomach that she doesn’t know how to deal with. But she’s so exhausted, and she knows that when she does talk about it, it’ll be difficult. She feels mostly okay, now, and she doesn’t really want to confront everything any more than she already has today.</p>
<p>Ricky must sense this, because he quickly adds on, “Or we could watch a movie or something. Whatever you want.”</p>
<p>Esther swallows, shooting him a grateful look, and says, “A movie sounds great.”</p>
<p>When the movie starts, they are seated on opposite ends of the loveseat, but as it progresses they inch closer and closer to each other, so that by the time the credits roll Esther is tucked into Ricky’s side, his arm resting over her shoulder. It’s a wonderful place to be, Esther is realizing, to be in the warm, safe embrace of Ricky Matsui.</p>
<p>It’s late by the time the movie finishes, and as much as she’d love to stay at Ricky’s for the night, she doesn’t want to impose more than she already has. “I should get going,” she says reluctantly, peeling herself from Ricky’s side. When she glances up at him, he has an unreadable expression on his face, clearly thinking about something. Esther’s brows furrow.</p>
<p>He must seem to decide on something, because he stands, saying, “Hold on one sec, I wanna get you something,” before heading deeper into the apartment. Esther is left sitting on the couch, confused and beginning to worry.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take Ricky long to find whatever he was getting, and he takes a seat back on his couch. “What’s up?” Esther asks, trying not to let her anxiety seep into her voice, but unsure if it’s working.</p>
<p>“I, uh, wanted to give you this,” he says, pressing something into her hands. She looks down and sees a set of keys. Confused, she looks back up at Ricky, who looks a bit sheepish. “Uh, it’s a set of keys to my apartment. Y’know, just to - just to have. In case you were ever feeling bad and wanted to stop by. I mean, you don’t have to be feeling bad to use them, though-”</p>
<p>“Ricky,” she says, gently cutting him off, an emotion she doesn’t know how to name bubbling up in her throat. “Thank you, really. This means - this means a lot.”</p>
<p>And it does. It’s overwhelming, how much Ricky means to her - has <i>meant</i> to her, even from before the curse was broken - and now knowing that he’s just as all-in as she is in such a concrete way - it’s everything.</p>
<p>Ricky smiles, bashful, and they stay like that for a bit, just grinning at each other, before Esther breaks her gaze, sighing. “I really should get going,” she says regretfully, standing from the sofa.</p>
<p>“Yeah, of course,” Ricky says, standing with her. He follows her to the door, and she turns back to look at him as she opens his door. She pauses before deciding, <i>fuck it,</i> and rolls up on her toes to kiss him. When she pulls back, she grins, winking at him before waving goodbye. She hears the door close a few seconds after she walks away, and the soft smile doesn’t slip from her face until well after she reaches her own apartment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow me on tumblr @ sasharchivists</p></blockquote></div></div>
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